Rattrap the RedNosed Maximal
by Amos Whirly
Summary: Rattrap receives a gift from an unlikely friend. formerly a chapter in Whirly's Christmas Fanfiction Countdown


**Note:** A number of years ago, I did a bunch of Christmas fics for different series and posted them all together, but I don't think anybody knows where to find them (either that or they totally suck, which is a definite possibility). So I'm just going to post them all separately. They're all shamelessly holiday-ish in nature, like this piece of sap, but they were a tremendous amount of fun to do. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the following characters. I don't really own much of anything other than a pencil and a notebook which I am attempting to make good use of in hopes of someday owning something better. =)

**Rattrap the Red-Nosed Maximal  
**Beast Wars  
Amos Whirly

The cotton fiber tissue alerted the tactile sensors under his nose as he violently chafed the sensitive area above his upper mandible. With a groan of discomfort, he shut his eyes and blew.

He tossed the soaked tissue into the garbage disposal unit in the corner and leaned back against the metallic headboard of his bed.

"Dis is crazy," he grumbled, shutting his eyes and allowing his head to loll to the side. "I'm gonna' strangle Tarantulus the next time I see him. Dag blasted spider."

He held another abrasive tissue under his nose and held it there as the opalescent brown hydraulic fluid drained from his mechanical nostrils.

He had taken a Predacon grenade on the back during their last skirmish. Normally, he would have just spent some time in the CR Chamber to repair the inflicted damages, but this grenade had a special surprise.

It seemed Tarantulus was experimenting with viral agents again. The last one had left Rhinox with an Energon sneezing virus that tore the base apart. Fortunately, the spider's most recent virus was not damaging to the base. It was more of an annoyance than anything else. And the fact that the virus was highly contagious, as discovered by a CR Chamber scan, did not help the situation.

Rattrap looked up as a metallic clang sounded on his door. It slid open, and Cheetor stuck his head in. He was wearing a surgical mask.

"Hey, Big R," he waved. "Got your hourly dose of hydro-fluid."

"Joy."

"Don't worry. Rhinox said it should wear off in a couple of more days."

"Again. Joy."

Cheetor set two bottles of brown hydraulic fluid on the desk across from Rattrap's bed. "Drink up. With you losing fluid like you are, your gears'll seize up in no time flat."

"I'm tryin' ta' sleep, kid."

Cheetor waved his blue fingers and hurriedly exited.

Rattrap fell back against his headboard and tried to sleep. Not too long afterward, though, another clank sounded on the door. Rattrap sat up and groaned loudly.

"Go away, ya' gearhead!"

The door slid open, darkened by an immense shadow with glittering green eyes. He had to bend down to get through the door.

"A rat hole," he snarled in a voice like an animal's growl. "For a rat."

"What do you want, chopper face?" Rattrap moaned and rolled over on his bed. "I'm a sick bot, if you ain't heard, and you ain't wearin' a mask."

"Warriors do not get viruses." Dinobot crossed his arms and made a grumpy sound.

"Buzz off."

The reformed Predacon stood quietly for a moment before he pulled a package from behind his back.

"What _do _you want, chopper face?"

"I encountered a data track some cycles back." Dinobot tossed the small package to the rat transformer. "Mixing a small bit of sodium chloride in the hydraulic fluid makes it far easier to ingest."

Rattrap opened the package and sniffed the substance inside.

"Salt, heh? Didn't know that."

"Of course, you didn't. You're a vermin."

Dinobot turned and moved to leave.

"Hey, chopper face? Why the sudden _gush _of neighborliness?"

"Apparently," Dinobot growled, looking over his shoulder, "judging by the cycle of the moon in accordance with the Earth time established on Cybertron during the Great War—"

"Just spit it out, already, will ya'?"

"This is the time of the Earth year that the humans celebrated a festival of goodwill, a time of – _sharing_."

"Didn't figure you for the gift-givin' type, chopper face."

Dinobot snorted and stomped back into the hallway, but he turned around and glared at Rattrap, green eyes sparkling. "Mention this to one of the others, and I shall force feed you that hydraulic fluid in a most unseemly manner, accursed rodent!"

Rattrap held up his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "They wouldn't believe me if I told 'em, Dino-butt."

Dinobot snarled and hurriedly exited. The chamber door slid shut.

Rattrap cracked open a bottle of hydraulic fluid and dumped some of the salt into it. With a deep breath, he chugged the whole bottle. When he was done, he looked at the salt skeptically.

"Heh. It _does_ help."

He narrowed his eyes at the data track storage unit in his wall, and he smirked as soon as he wiped his nose again.

- - - -

Dinobot had returned to the bridge and was running a set of scans over the perimeter in search of Predacon advances. Cheetor was listening to music tracks he had found somewhere on the Axilon's hard drive, and Rhinox and Optimus were fussing over a faulty computer screen.

The PA system in the ship suddenly kicked in, and Rattrap's voice echoed through the halls. "Hey, Merry Christmas to you too, chopper face!"

Cheetor, Rhinox, and Optimus glanced sideways at Dinobot who growled dangerously. "Wretched vermin."


End file.
